


Come out and get me

by DoNotPullTheBeigeLever



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Annoyed Derek, Derek is tired as fuck, Derek just wants Stiles to Sleep, Drunk Stiles, How do you look after a hyperactive drunk 17 year old Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:44:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoNotPullTheBeigeLever/pseuds/DoNotPullTheBeigeLever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek instantly recognized the voice on the phone as Stiles even though all he slurs out is a “Gah habbuh baahbuh”.<br/>Sighing, Derek knows that it was Stiles' terrible attempt at saying “Come out and get me” at three in the morning, when he was obviously piss drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come out and get me

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after watching a Rooster Teeth video and joked about writing a Teen Wolf version of their video with a friend. I decided to post it up for you to enjoy my rambling. 
> 
> It's worth watching the video as it's is the original story and it only goes for 2 minutes :)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlwxjmxyXqg
> 
> I don't own the story as it belongs to Rooster Teeth- I just changed a few things for Teen Wolf.

 

 

_Ring Ring_

_Ring Ringg_

_Ring Ringggg_  
  


“Ergh” Derek groaned and covered his face with his pillow, hoping to block out the sound of his phone. It didn’t help though, with super sensitive werewolf hearing it made the ringing worse.

 

Sighing, Derek threw the pillow off his face, rolled over and blindly grabbed for his phone in the dark. He sheltered his eyes from the blinding light emanating from the screen showing ‘3:00’ before answering.

 

“Hello?”

 

There was loud noises, like at a bar or restaurant, coming through the speaker and soon a voice made its way through the noise.

 

Derek instantly recognised it as Stiles even though all he slurs out is a “Gah habbuh baahbuh”.

 

Sighing, Derek knew that it was Stiles' attempt at saying “Come out and get me” at three in the morning, obviously piss drunk.

 

Mumbling something to himself about needing more sleep and how Stiles shouldn’t be drinking; Derek slowly made it through his apartment, pulling on pants and a sweater before shoving his bare feet into a crappy pair of shoes and driving out to find Stiles.

 

Finding Stiles’ scent in Beacon Hill’s main city area wasn’t hard for the fact that he was in the bar that he had been raving about for months and that his GPS tracking system was still on (because Scott and Derek like to make sure that Stiles is always safe).

 

Breezing past the bouncers, Derek looked around the bar, searching for any sign of the scruffy hair that he knew belonged in a bed and should be asleep at this hour.

 

After searching for about 5 minutes, he found Stiles, draped against the bar, hand still clutching a glass of something. Derek quickly took it out of Stiles’ hands and put on the counter.

“Stiles! How lovely to see you here,” Derek announced in Stile’s ear to get his hazy attention.

 

“Derek! Hey!” Stiles grinned up at Derek, eyes lighting up as he practically throws himself at Derek who just sighed and held the heavily intoxicated boy up.

 

“Does he still need to pay for anything?” Derek yelled over the music to the bartender who shook his head. 

 

“No, he’s payed enough for tonight.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Derek thanked the bartender and slowly manoeuvred Stiles out of the bar and onto the street where he practically dragged the boy into his car. He drove back to his own apartment block because no way in hell was Derek leaving Stiles alone in his house  _this_  drunk _again_.

 

(Last time Stiles had nearly sliced his face off by falling through the shower's glass door.)

 

By the time Derek has forced Stiles into the elevator and into his apartment without too many problems, Stiles is practically bouncing up and down on the spare bedroom’s bed.

 

“Go to sleep, Stiles. It’ll be good for you and you probably won’t have a hangover tomorrow morning.” 

 

But Stiles doesn’t hear Derek, he just jumps a little higher on the bed before giving out a small cry of joy as he dive-bombed Derek from the mattress and tackled him to the floor.

 

“Dude, what the hell, go to bed!” Derek grumbled and literally picked up Stiles and forced him onto the bed in front of him.

 

“But I don’t want to De-“

 

“Go to bed”

 

“rek! I want to stay up with you!” Stiles grinned and attempted to tackle Derek onto the floor again.

 

Derek grabbed Stile’s phone and tried to text Scott a message of “Stiles is drunk, please tell his dad that he’s staying at my house tonight” but can’t even make it though a single sentence because Stiles keeps trying to knock the phone out of Derek’s hands.

 

It gets to the point where Stiles makes his way into the kitchen (with Derek in tow) and grabs and random bottle of water from the sink.

 

Sighing, Derek goes to grab it out of Stiles’ hands and keep trying to coax him to sleep when he gets a face-full of water.

 

“S-Stiles?! What the hell??” Derek grunts as he wipes water out of his eyes.

 

Stiles just manically laughs and goes to pour more water on Derek, missing the fact that he tipped the whole bottle on him the first time, so he just stands in the living room, shaking an empty water bottle at Derek who grumbles to himself about how wet his carpet is going to be but puts up with it because Stiles is drunk and can’t really be judged for his stupid actions.

 

“Stiles, will you please just go to sleep?” Derek asks, hands catching the empty water bottle as it is being flailed at Derek who just watches on with mild amusement and irritation.

 

“Should I be in bed? I mean I know it’s three-ish in the morning but I reaaaaly don’t feel tired” Stiles whines and slides onto the floor, rolling the water bottle at Derek’s now bare feet.

 

Bending down to Stiles’ level, Derek sighs again. He takes the water bottle and holds it and gently stills Stiles’ frantic hand movements.

 

“You are tired, Stiles.” Derek tells him softly. “You may not feel it but you are really tired. Your body right now actually wants to sleep.”

 

Stiles just looks at him for a moment and his hands accept the water bottle at Derek passes it back to Stiles who just hugs it against his chest instead of throwing it sporadically at Derek.

 

“Yeah.....” Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes suddenly drooping as if his body is now quickly shutting down. “I do feel kind of tired...” Stiles trailed off, eyes on a patch of carpet and slowly closing.

 

Quickly hoisting Stiles onto his feet, Derek walked the now exhausted Stiles to the guest bedroom.

This time, Derek barely needed to lift a finger to help Stiles into the bed. He crawled in, snuggled under the pillows with shoes and socks still on.

 

“He can clean the sheets himself,” Derek murmured as he walked towards the door, looking back at the drunk boy lying in his guest bedroom and shuts the door with a cheery goodbye consisting of “Alright, I’m leaving!”

 

Sighing a loud “Fucking  _finally_ ,” Derek goes to walk back to his bed and fall asleep for fuck knows how long but realises that it’s now 5:00 in the morning, he’s wide awake and it’s good weather for a jog.

 

Derek makes it out the front door and down the hallway but soon enough, Derek hears a soft ‘Pop pop pop’ of feet down the hall and as he reaches the elevator: _Stiles is now in the elevator_.

Derek could cry.

 

“Son of a bitch,” Derek groans in discontent as Stiles, who clearly  _did not_   _stay in the fucking bed_ starts bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

 

“Why are you here, Stiles?” Derek hisses, clearly pissed off now.

“I wanted to come with you!” Stiles replies happily, rubbing the back of his neck and spinning slowly before reaching out towards Derek and taking hold of his arm.

 

“I can see that,” Derek said, words dry and flat and Stiles doesn’t even notice.

 

“I wanted to come with you, because I thought, ‘Hey! Derek probably wants company, as we are friends and that I’m pretty good company....”

 

Derek ignores Stiles.  He is so angry right now but he breathes heavily through his nose, trying to dispel his pent up rage for the teenager who honestly can’t take a hint that Derek  _wanted_  to be alone and that  _Stiles_  should probably be  _asleep_ right  _now._

 

“...and I decided that that was the best idea as really, you would be the best person to choose and I’d prefer you to take care of me when I’m like this because you’re the oldes-“

 

“Why aren’t you in bed, Stiles?” Derek angrily cuts in.

 

“Because I want you to take care of me bec-“ The elevator dings and the doors slide open.

Derek walks out and turns around, stopping Stiles who tries to follow Derek out of the elevator.

 

“I’m just done,” Derek says coldly to Stiles' confused face. Derek knows Stiles may be upset by what he’s about to do now, but he’ll forgive him later because it’s Stiles, and Stiles has a heart of gold.

 

Derek stands in the lobby and puts on hand on Stile’s chest and holds him in the elevator.

Turning, Derek hits all of the buttons on the side panel. Panicking, Stiles tries to get out of the elevator to follow him out but Derek pushes a little harder on Stiles chest and he falls onto his ass on the metal floor.

 

Derek points at the lit up floor buttons on the elevator panel and says

 

“Somebody on one of these floors will take care of you.”

 

Derek let the door close shut and walked out of the building, listening to Stiles ascend upwards to every floor whining about how Derek sucks.

 

Smirking a little, Derek is about to set off at a jog down the foot path and start an early morning run when he hears on the 10 floor “..Stiles? What are you doing here?”

 

It’s Allison.

 

Derek grins and laughs and sets off on his run.

 

He’ll apologise to Allison later.

 

 

 


End file.
